The Nicht

My career as a software developer began at an Austrian company located in the heart of our old continent. The corporate language was English. The code, the documentation. Everything was in English, but the bosses spoke to each other in German. Deutsch. You have to say it with discipline, making sure to pronounce each of the letters, especially the end. Deutsch. So many consonants lined up waiting to be mentioned. Long words like deserts in that language, conjugations and a different order, that's Deutsch, my friends.

Learning that language was the key to being able to communicate properly with the other workers, with my bosses, with the bosses of my bosses, etc.

I started German classes with enthusiasm, like someone going to drink from a stream. I usually find it easy to learn things, but with German, I caught the fish on the first try. I quickly noticed the changing order of their expressions, essential conjugations that had to be memorized, and one word that became my ally from that moment on: Nicht.

I started speaking always saying Nicht at the end of each sentence, not as a filler but as a communication pattern, even as a life philosophy. Nicht.

You know? I used to say in meetings in English, disappointing myself and having to lower my head. That was before, before Nicht. In German meetings, I felt more in my element. It had nothing to do with you know. I had left them behind, they were part of my past.

From that moment on, I was invited to more meetings. I received questions constantly, and my opinion was taken into account when making decisions.

Nicht was my wildcard word, filling in my lack of vocabulary and grammar. It allowed me to communicate with others in their language, as if I were one of them, just another fish in the stream.

They asked me everything from technical issues to the number of tickets that could be completed in the next Q3, to reassign other colleagues, although some of them only spoke English.

I answered with my German sentences and my Nicht always at the end. Sometimes they smiled, sometimes they laughed, sometimes they nodded, the reaction varied depending on the level of responsibility of those present. The point is that my Nicht worked.

Nicht. Always said at the end of each sentence. No need to shout it. It had to be said softly, like stroking a horse's back before riding through the valleys and feeling the fresh wind slapping your face.

Obviously, I improved my German; I knew what I was talking about, no longer had vocabulary gaps or grammatical errors. Nevertheless, I kept my Nicht in each of my German sentences, always at the end, like the climax of a movie or the socks on a leg.

That Nicht brought me success, not my skills with algorithms or my ability to design components. That Nicht carried me to departments of the company that even many Germans didn't know about.

Here I am now, teleworking with my legs crossed on the table, fans flying over the devices, cups of coffee full, and my shoes lying around somewhere in the field.